Sleeping Beauty

Fraser held the door open as Ray carried his sister into the room and laid her gently on the floor. It was a dusty, unheated warehouse, but at least it provided some shelter from the stinging wind.

Ray looked anxiously at Fraser as they both bent over Francesca's prone form. "She's gonna be o.k., right?" he asked, trusting that his friend would have the answer.

Fraser pulled off his gloves and placed two fingers along the side of her neck. "I feel a heartbeat," he reported. "And she's breathing," he added, after leaning his ear to her mouth. Next he spoke directly to Francesca as he shook her shoulders gently but urgently. "Francesca Vecchio, do you hear me?"

"Come on, Frannie," Ray added. "Come out of it."

But the young woman lay unconscious, her body shuddering with cold.

"I believe she's in shock, Ray, which means we don't have much time."

Ray rubbed his head with both hands. "Great. That's just great because the criminals shot out my two front tires on their way out." Unconsciously he patted down his pockets before realizing, "Damn. What good is a cell phone that doesn't float?" It had fallen out of his pocket and over the edge of the pier when he and Fraser were fishing Frannie out of the lake. Frannie! "What should we do?" he asked the mountie.

With a brief nod, Fraser suggested, "We could start by getting these soaked clothes off her. Your overcoat will make an adequate blanket."

They both glanced down at Francesca's mini-skirt and sweater ensemble now plastered to her shivering body. "I'll take the shoes," said Fraser, focusing his attention on the complicated straps while Ray draped his sister with his long wool overcoat and began working on what was underneath.

By the time they'd undressed her and rubbed her hands and feet for a while, Ray was getting panicky. "Why doesn't she wake up?"

"I'm sure there is nothing to worry about, Ray," said Fraser, but there was a crease in the center of his forehead as he stared at Francesca. She had mostly stopped trembling, but her color wasn't good.

Ray came to stand over his sister, but it was Fraser he looked at. "You must know something else to dosome Inuit thing," he suggested with a pleading look.

Fraser hesitated. Something had sprung to mind, but it was... unorthodox, and he wasn't sure it would work.

Ray started pacing again. "Geez, I hate seeing her like this," he complained. "She should be up, causing trouble, making everybody miserableespecially me."

Finally, Fraser made up his mind. "Ray, why don't you go outside and start changing the tires."

Ray looked relieved to have something to do. "Yeah, o.k. Come on, Dief," he said.

When the door had swung shut behind them, Fraser knelt over Francesca. In the pale light coming from the high warehouse windows, he once again checked her pulse and gently lowered himself to listen to her breathing.

He hovered over her a long moment, her breath tickling his cheek, his eyes closed, not allowing himself to think. Then he took a breath and ...

...kissed her.

He was never sure afterward what happened. There was a moment of disorientation as he covered her silken lips with his ownperhaps more than a moment.

Vaguely, he felt movement beneath Ray's coat, felt her mouth open. But before he fully comprehended these signs, her lips had broken away and he was reeling from an ear-piercing scream!

That was followed by a bark as Diefenbaker bounded through the door, followed by Ray.

"Frannie!" called Ray delightedly, drawing up short just in time to see Francesca's hand connect with a SMACK on Fraser's startled jaw.

Eyes wide, Ray took in the scene. "Oh my god! She must have amnesia or something," he said, falling to his knees beside them. "Frannie, do you know who I am?"

"Of course I do, you moron," she growled, turning her face aside from Diefenbaker's comforting snuffles.

Ray rubbed the back of his neck with one hand. "Yeah, but do you know who this is?" he said, gesturing to the mountie who was still astride her with a concerned look on his face.

Francesca rolled her eyes. "It's Fraser, and he's heavy." When they continued to stare at her she turned to Fraser and shouted, "Ya wanna get off me!"

"Oh! Certainly," Fraser said, leaping away like a scalded dog.

It was at this point that Francesca sat up and felt a draft. "Eek! Hey! What happened to my clothes?"

Ray mumbled, "Uh..."

At the same time, Fraser said, "They're over there. We folded them."

"And who's bright idea was it to take them off?"

The two men looked at each other. "His," Ray said first. Then he felt obligated to explain. "Look Frannie, this is all a big misunderstanding..."

"Yeah, right." She stood up, clutching the coat to her chest. "You gonna stand there and watch?"

Both men whirled to face the wall, and Ray continued his explanation to the corrugated aluminum. "See, it's this Inuit technique," he said, with all the confidence of an expert. "You were in shock, and..."

Meanwhile, Francesca decided against putting her soggy clothes back on and instead wrapped Ray's coat over the clammy underwear and bra she was already wearing. "Sixty dollar shoes," she complained, sitting on a crate to put them on and tossing her shredded nylons over her shoulder.

"Oh boy! What a day," she went on over Ray's explanations. "First I'm kidnapped by a couple of losers who drive me out to this dump," she said, waving her hands in the general direction of the warehouse around her. "Then, just when I'm about to wear through my bonds and flirt my way out of here, what should the kidnappers hear but that Buick battleship you call a car," she groused. "Real subtle, Ray!"

Fraser didn't need peripheral vision to know Ray was rolling his eyes. "Give me a break, Frannie," Ray said to the wall. "We were coming to rescue you."

"Since when is the Cavalry supposed to get you thrown in a frozen lakestill tied up?"

"I thought you had worn through the ropes," he retorted.

"Give it a rest, Ray," she said, pulling a compact out of her purse and checking her melted make-up. "I'm the one who was practically drowned, o.k. And frozen. And I finally wake up to find a mountie's tongue down my throatand who knows where that's been..."

Fraser's head snapped around to face Ray so fast that his neck crackled like popcorn.

Ray strolled toward his friend. "Benny, can I see you for a moment?"

Fraser gulped but replied, ever polite, "Of course, Ray. Excuse us, Frances..." as Ray jerked him behind a stack of crates.

Ray grabbed the lapels of Fraser's overcoat and propelled him backward by the force of his anger.

"Benny, so help me, you'd better tell me that was some Inuit technique in the next thirty seconds or I'll..."

When Fraser felt his hat brim graze the crate behind him, he held his ground. "Well, I'm sure the Inuit do it," he answered, smoothing one eyebrow with his thumbnail. "But whether or not the technique has ever been applied in these circumstances..."

Ray bent double in disbelief. "That was your plan? Kissing!?" Fraser's face was carefully neutral. "Well, she did wake up, Ray."

"Oh yeah! You get her out of shock by giving me a heart attack. This is my sister we're talking about."

"I'm sorry, Ray," said Fraser sincerely. The scrape of his boots on the sandy warehouse floor was loud in the silence. "I didn't think...That is, she wasn't supposed to..."

Finally, he raised his head and stood at attention, staring past Ray's left ear. "I assure you my intentions were honorable." The blue eyes flickered to Ray's face and away again. "The tongue thing was exaggerated," he added.

Ray ran a hand forward and back over his head. "Yeah, well you're my friend, and I want to believe you." He paused, putting a hand on the crate at Fraser's back and leaning in so close that his nose was shadowed by the mountie's hat. "But I know what I saw. And, if you come near my sister again, I'll...I'll have to call foul."

Fraser blinked. "I think you mean 'call me out'."

"Whatever."

"Understood."

Ray turned away, mumbling to himself.

"Ray," said Fraser, following. "Perhaps I could smooth things over with Francesca. If I could have a moment alone with her to apologize..."

"No."

"Understood."

However, Francesca was waiting for them when they returned to the main part of the warehouse. She stood, wrapped in the voluminous coat, tiny, high-heeled foot tapping.

"Come on, Frannie," Ray called, overly cheerful. "Let's get you home."

But Francesca didn't move. "Ray, go take the wolf for a walk," she insisted, fixing her eyes on Fraser. "I have something to settle with the mountie."

Ray had evidently changed his mind about forbidding such an encounter. Fraser swallowed hard as he watched Ray and Diefenbaker scramble to vacate the warehouse. Bracing himself, he faced Francesca alone.

Ray's coat fluttered around her shapely legs in the draft before the door closed, sealing them in. Perhaps he should take this opportunity to stem her anger with an apology. He respectfully removed his hat, and, holding it in front of him like an offering, began, "Francesca,..."

But she stopped him with a look. "I just have one thing to say." Fury flickered in her deep brown eyes. "How dare you?"

Fraser closed his mouth, feeling again the heat where her slap had stung his cheek. He lowered his head, staring at his boots...

...until her stained satin shoes entered his field of vision. Then, his head snapping up, he stepped backward and bumped hard into the wall behind him.

Outside, Ray heard the rumble of the aluminum and grinned. Beside him, Dief whined accusingly.

Ray shrugged. "Hey, you'd feel the same way if it was your sister."

Meanwhile, Francesca was almost close enough to crush Fraser's hat, nailing him to the wall with her gaze.

"Since the day we met I've thrown myself at you," she said, flinging her fingers into the air around her face. "I've chased you, even offered myself to you."

Fraser blinked, heat creeping up his neck at the memory.

But she didn't give him time to reminisce. "And in all that time, you never once gave me the slightest encouragement. Hah! You even avoided me. Yeah, of course I could tell, Fraser," she snorted at his innocent expression. "Nobody's that polite! And then there's that whole thing about me being Ray's sister, like that should matter..."

Fraser stood at attention, his eyes following as Francesca paced the warehouse floor, waving her arms, gesturing, and running her fingers through her dripping hair.

Suddenly, she whirled, finger pointing from the voluminous sleeve. "You don't want me? Fine. You've made that pretty clear. Then you don't have any right to kiss me." She took two steps back, hugging the giant coat around her, whether from cold or injured pride he couldn't tell.

"You don't have the right to take me in your solid arms," she continued, closing her eyes, "and run your gentle fingers through my hair, and sear me with your hot breath and enflame me with your... "

"Then you were awake?" Fraser interrupted calmly.

Her eyes flew open. "That's beside the point," she snapped.

"Understood. Please continue."

She sighed. "Look, Frase. You can't have it both ways. You can't kiss me like that and then pretend you're not interested." She waved away his protests with the coat sleeve. "Oh, I know what you thought," she said, the collar of the coat slipping down over one smooth shoulder.

She jerked it back into place and tossed her head, spraying Fraser with droplets from her flying bangs. He didn't move to brush them away. Instead, he averted his gaze until Francesca said, "Wake up, Fraser. Are you even listening to me?"

"With rapt attention," he said, training his clear blue eyes back on her face.

"I know what you thought," she repeated. "You were just helping or rescuing or whateverdoing your duty." She stood before him, feet planted, arms akimbo. "And, let me tell you, that really makes a girl feel wanted."

Her voice caught, and she shook her head, clenching her fists. "Anyway, Fraser, that's not all I want from you or any man. I deserve more," she said fiercely. "So if you want to hide behind duty and propriety and,...and Canadian-ness, fine! But don't you dare touch me again with 'honorable intentions'. Got it?"

Fraser opened his mouth, then closed it as he met her gaze and noticed that the fiery eyes were wet, the lashes spiky with moisture. Finally, his head tilted slightly. "Yes," he said. "I believe I do."

Francesca exhaled. "Well,...good," she said, her eyes quickly returning to their usual warm brown. "Sorry I had to be so hard on you."

"Not a-tall."

She looked at her feet and then around the room and then back to Fraser, who was still watching her. "So,..." She pointed toward the door. "Um. I'm gonna go now."

He nodded, and she turned on her heel.

With a few quick strides, Fraser beat her to the door. When he opened it for her, Ray nearly fell inside.

Francesca snorted. "Come on, bro," she said, stepping past him with her chin in the air. "Let's get out of here. And that heater in your car better be working."

A look passed between the two men. Ray said, "Guess she was pretty tough on you, huh?"

"Hmm," said Fraser by way of answer as they watched the tiny figure swallowed in Ray's coat pick her way across the muddy ground on those ridiculously high heels. Ray had about given up on any further details when Fraser murmured, "Your sister is a remarkable woman."

Ray followed him toward the Riviera, and, for once, he didn't even roll his eyes.